My Fair Bunny
by MayzyGreen
Summary: Mamoru promises to make Usagi into Motoki's ideal woman. First Season Romance. Complete! Revised
1. Chapter 1 Promise

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon.

**My Fair Bunny**

Danika Lareyna

Part One - Promise

Mamoru watched her. Were he the type to blatantly reveal his every emotion on his face- like her- disgust would have been running rampant across his features. As it was the feeling was simmering just below the surface, begging to be released in a cutting insult. '_Patience, my sweet,_' he told it, '_Just a few more moments and she will do something _truly_ mortifying and then, then my precious, we shall have our say._'

Usagi was leaning across the counter in an subconscious effort to become closer to the man she was flirting with. Closer... closer... Almost there... Now! Overbalancing Usagi toppled over the counter, Motoki leaping aside just in time, and landed in a heap on the opposite floor. As if to add insult to injury, her half-full, mostly melted strawberry sundae spun and wobbled its way towards the edge of the counter. A simple, swift movement on Mamoru's part could have stopped the coming disaster, but where was the fun in that? Inevitably, the cup reached its destination, tilted, and landed with a _splat _on Usagi's head. Mamoru felt the tension which had been building in him erupt in a burst of sweet satisfaction.

Now was the moment for the perfect insult, honed to razor sharpness and intricately crafted with a tiny barb to really tear. Mamoru opened his mouth, his fantastic wit and the horrible cruelty that only a certain blonde seemed to bring to the surface, coming into play. At the last possible moment before the words left his lips Usagi's eyes watered and her lower lip began to tremble. Curse her! _He_ was supposed to bring that look to her face; it brought no satisfaction if she was already upset. Settling back into a sulk, Mamoru swallowed his taunt.

Motoki leaned over and helped the klutz to her feet. He handed over one of the dishrags he kept behind the counter just for her; the need was always present. With a sympathetic grin, he told her to go clean up in the restroom and he would fix her a new sundae, on the house. Usagi's tears dried up immediately and, like a little miracle, her radiant smile showed itself from behind the clouds. Mamoru's sulk deepened. The girl practically skipped to the restroom, mindless of the cold, sticky sweetness running down her neck.

Motoki watched Mamoru watching Usagi. Outwardly he looked in control, rather bored even; but Motoki had not known Mamoru for nearly ten years to no avail. Visible only to him was the wide range of emotions playing across Mamoru's icy blue eyes: revulsion, frustration, annoyance, and most of all obsession. Sometimes Motoki felt little shivers dance up and down his spine when he saw that look in his friend's eyes. In all of their long years as friends, Motoki had never seen anything even similar in the normally quiet, polite and caring young man.

Plunking a new sugary delight on the counter next to Mamoru, Motoki firmly instructed his friend to make sure Usagi got her treat and not to tease her. Mamoru's eyebrows drew down but he did not argue, or even meet Motoki's eye. As Motoki made his way over towards the booths to take a new groups' order a thought occurred to him. Turning back, he realized that the counter was entirely empty other than Mamoru; and yet when she had entered Usagi had immediately oriented on the stool adjacent to her tormentor. Motoki stared in surprise for a moment and then, shaking his head and turning back to his task, he wondered with a bit of a shudder if Usagi was some sort of masochist.

When Usagi returned to her seat and found her beloved occupied with another group, her shining eyes faded and, with a depressed huff, she flung herself onto the stool next to Mamoru and attacked her dessert. As Usagi ate, she peered at Mamoru out of the corner of her eyes while firmly pretending that he did not exist to taint her world. He was hunched around his coffee cup, not drinking but taking in the steam. She followed the line of his back, intrigued by the juxtaposition of the elegant curve of his spine outlined by the stomach churning color of his jacket. He was not an overly large man, tall and thin, but she imagined that he had far more strength than his form revealed. With a smirk, she noticed that the little finger of his left hand was twitching; a sure sign that he had some cruel comment lurking in his mind but he was resisting, probably on Motoki's orders.

Her wicked streak took hold; if he was not going to tease her that left him open for her own abuse. Without looking at him she chirped, "Mamoru-Baka, did you know we're learning about different animals in school now?" Her target did not respond, not even a twitch. Blithely, she continued, "Oh yes, we saw a movie about these really ugly lemurs and I thought to myself, 'Huh, I didn't know Mamoru-Baka was a native of Madagascar.'" Usagi glanced at him; he was still, too still. She pressed her attack, "Then we learned how some male animals have really showy feathers and fur and stuff to attract mates and I thought to myself, 'Huh, considering his jacket, I wonder if that means Mamoru is really hoping to find a girl who's color-blind." A tiny muscle in his cheek twitched- success! One more shove and she would have her victory. Thinking hard she said, "Ooh, and then we learned about animals that mark their territory by leaving smelly marks wherever they go and I thought to myself-"

"No matter how much you flirt with him, he will never love you."

If you listened closely on that sunny spring day, you could hear the shattering of an innocent heart.

xXx

"What the _hell_ did you do to her?!" Motoki demanded, "I've _never_ seen Usagi look like that!"

"She started it!" Mamoru insisted, sounding juvenile and foolish even to his own ears. The image of Usagi, pale and numb as she made her way out of the arcade, zombie-like, shook him to his core, awakening emotions he did not know he had and could not recognize. He had made her mad, he had made her cry; he had seen and evoked a wider range of emotions from that girl than any other ten people were even capable of. But he had never hurt her like that. He had not believed it possible to suck all of the light from her soul, anymore than he believed it possible to extinguish the sun. It simply burned too bright and eternal. Chiba Mamoru had achieved the impossible, the terrible.

In addition, he had incredibly pissed Motoki off.

"That's it!" Motoki roared; Mamoru flinched back before he could stop himself. "I don't care what it was you said to that poor girl, but you are going to apologize to her and you are going to fix whatever it is that's wrong. _Do you hear me?_"

Mamoru knew that he would do anything to take back his words but apologizing was another story altogether. He had not apologized to anyone in as long as he could remember. Struggling internally he muttered, "And if I don't?"

Motoki ceased his raging and stared at his friend coldly, "Then you will not be welcome here anymore."

Mamoru heard the undercurrent meaning in his words. Their friendship, possibly the only friendship he had had since his parents had died (if you did not count Usagi, and he was probably the only person on Earth who did), would be over. Deep in his heart, where he could easily dismiss it as foolishness and insanity, a quiet voice asked whether he would be more hurt by the loss of Usagi than Motoki. Mamoru stood and left the arcade, his mind roiling with the thought of apologizing to the ditzy, little girl. Subconsciously he was extremely grateful to his friend for providing the ultimatum as an excuse to make up with her.

xXx

Mamoru stood outside of Usagi's house. A bouquet of roses was clutched in his hand, beads of perspiration formed on his brow. Not that he acknowledged them, Chiba Mamoru did not sweat. Wiping what was not sweat from his palms and frantically rehearsing his words under his breath, he reached out and pressed the doorbell. How could such a cheerful chime sound so much like a death toll?

A lovely woman with long waves of indigo hair answered the door. She looked nothing like Usagi but when she gave him a bright, accepting smile, he decided that she must be the girl's mother. She wore an apron and carried a spatula in one hand, the perfect image of a stereotypical housewife. Mamoru tried to picture Usagi in the same attire and almost smiled in amusement. His daydreaming was cut off when the woman's smile faded slightly and her eyes turned curious, "Can I help you, young man?"

Before Mamoru could formulate an answer, a loud voice rang out from within the abode, "Young man? Young man!" There was a sound like the charging of a bull elephant and a red faced, bespectacled man appeared at the door. He took in Mamoru's nervous expression and the flowers clutched in his hand. "Get my gun, Dear," he murmured, pushing his way in front of the woman.

Mamoru took a step back, "Uh..." he said, wittily, "Is Usagi here?"

This was, apparently, not the correct thing to say. The man's face darkened from cherry red to the color of a fresh bruise. Usagi's mother rolled her eyes. "You are here to date my daughter," Usagi's father spat. His tone sounded more as if he were saying, "You are here to set fire to my house, destroy all I hold dear, and kick my puppy." Fortunately, Mamoru was quick to respond in the negative.

"No! I just, I needed to apologize to her for something."

The man's glasses steamed over with the rage boiling through his blood. "You made my little girl cry!" he roared. Slowly, starting in his feet and working its way up like a volcano threatening to erupt, Usagi's father began to tremble. Mamoru realized that the older man looked moments away from attacking, gun or no, he felt it a good idea to beat a hasty retreat. He shot a desperate look at the woman standing a little behind the man. She moved her mouth slowly and precisely.

Carefully, Mamoru read her lips, "Back... Door... Now... Run!"

He took her advice.

xXx

Mamoru stood on a can of particularly foul smelling garbage and peered over the wall surrounding Usagi's home. In the alley behind him, a tiny dachshund yapped piercingly and occasionally leaped up to nip his ankles. He ignored the mutt stoically. Suddenly his precarious perch failed him and he tumbled, tipping the trash over and landing in it. The dog recognized its chance and began to maul, in a tiny dachshund sort of way, Mamoru's leg. Mamoru stared up at the sky and wondered what he had done to deserve this. An image flashed across his mind of Usagi sitting in almost the exact same position in the arcade with ice cream in her hair. Oh, that.

Grumbling, he peeked around the back gate and found himself face to face with Usagi's mother. With a yelp he threw himself backwards, tripped over the still attacking dachshund, and landed back in the trash. As the dachshund, giving it up for a bad job, raced away yelping, Mamoru climbed back to his feet under the amused eyes of the blue-maned woman.

Trying to get the last of the coffee grounds from the back of his pants and pulling the rotting banana peel out of his hair, he opened his mouth to speak to her. She held a finger to her lips and, getting the message, Mamoru kept his silence. She beckoned him to follow her and turned back into the yard. Anxiously he trailed behind her. He was surprised when she led him, not to the house, but a small, plastic playhouse under a tree in the backyard. With a significant glance back at her home, Usagi's mother indicated that Mamoru should wait within.

Chiba Mamoru had never, in his life, considered any circumstances that would cause him to enter a pink playhouse, which epitomized girlishness. Mamoru entered without a second thought, after the events of the rest of the day he did not even pause when he found the playhouse filled with stuffed unicorns, kitties and similar miscellanea. Using a large, overstuffed penguin as a cushion, Mamoru sat to wait.

A few minutes later, he heard the angry voice of Usagi squeal, "Mom! Why won't you just tell me what you want? I don't want to- Wait!"

Suddenly the door swung open and Usagi was thrust through. Her eyes widened in shock when she discovered who was waiting for her. Between the less than elegant entrance and the surprise, Usagi lost her balance and fell over and, thanks to the tight quarters, landed in Mamoru's lap. With chilling thoughts of the fanatical man inside Usagi's house Mamoru quickly helped her up. "Nice place you got here, Odango-Atama," he said with a smirk.

"I played here as a kid!" Usagi flared and then suddenly, like a candle being spit on, her eyes went dead. The anger washed out of her, as well as all other emotion. Guilt welled up in Mamoru and he knew he would have to get this over with quickly before his mind shut down entirely. Thrusting the slightly squashed roses at the girl he said, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Usagi ignored the flowers and spoke, in a flat, monotone voice, "No. You were right. Motoki will never see me the way I see him."

This was not the way it was supposed to work. Usagi was supposed to immediately forgive him, coo over the flowers, and then get mad about something entirely different and kick him out. Mamoru's brain started to short-circuit. He had no idea what to do. He found himself poking the roses against Usagi's unmoving chest. "Uh... uh..." he stammered, "I mean, nothing's _impossible_."

A spark flashed in Usagi's eyes. Yes! It was a start! Mamoru attempted to fan the flames, "I mean, you're just not his type, but that could change."

Hope bubbled up within her but she glared at him. "Motoki made you come," she accused.

Frowning, Mamoru admitted, "Yes. He told me to come apologize and fix whatever was wrong."

"To fix what was wrong...?" she asked.

Mamoru nodded, not liking the look on her face. He could almost see the cogs spinning in her brain.

"And you're going to?"

"Uh... yes?"

"_Promise?_"

"Uh... yes?"

With a delighted squeak, Usagi threw herself at Mamoru and wrapped her arms around him in a mammoth hug. She began spewing thanks so fast he could barely make out her words. "Wait!" he exclaimed, "What did I just agree to?"

Usagi backed up but, Mamoru noticed with a little tingle, her fingers were still draped across the back of his neck. Her eyes were wide and curious, as if what she was about to say was the most logical thing in the world. "You agreed to help me become Motoki's type, of course."

Mamoru blinked. "Uh... oh," he said.

Usagi squealed and threw herself at him again. Just as he was beginning to rather enjoy having her warm little body pressed against him she said, "Mamoru?"

"Yes?"

"You stink!"

xXx


	2. Chapter 2 Lessons

**My Fair Bunny**

Danika Lareyna

Part Two - Lessons

_Alright, let's review_, Mamoru thought to himself. _You, a drop-dead-gorgeous-sexy nineteen-year-old college student, are alone in your apartment with a sweet, innocent fourteen-year-old girl- still in her school uniform no less! Man, it is a good thing the only person who could conceivably come to visit you is currently at work at the arcade, because this could look bad._ "Way to not have any friends, Chiba," he congratulated himself wryly.

Of course, it was at that moment that Usagi emerged from his kitchen and threw herself on the couch opposite him. "Aw," she said, "Is poor widdle Mamoru-Baka wallowing in self pity? Never had another person in your apartment before, Baka?" Her grin turned wicked and her voice rang with false surprise, "Mamoru- am I the first girl you've ever been alone with?"

Her comments were completely off and at the same time hit disturbingly close to the mark. Flustered, Mamoru muttered something under his breath and tried to convince himself that he was not blushing. Thankfully, Usagi did not notice, being immersed in her grape soda. The _last_ grape soda, Mamoru noted sourly. Grape soda, after all, was his favorite.

"So?" Usagi inquired.

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes, "How are you going to turn me into Motoki's ideal woman?" she snapped.

"Oh..." Mamoru replied. Usagi gestured impatiently, almost slopping grape soda on his perfect white carpet.

"Be careful with that!" he yelped, leaning forward to guide the glass, clenched in her tiny hand, to a coaster.

"You know, Baka," Usagi said, "You might have more visitors if it looked like someone actually _lived_ here." She gazed around at the almost unnaturally clean apartment and shuddered.

In response, Mamoru glared at her.

With a significant look, Usagi lifted her glass high and tilted it a little. Mamoru resisted the urge to lunge forward, to protect the carpet with his body if need be, but his eyes widened and he quickly got down to business. "Right," he said and waited for her to lower her weapon before continuing, "So Motoki's last girlfriend was named Reika. They went out for nearly four years before she went to Africa to study prehistoric humans. Motoki was crazy about her and pretty devastated when she left. I figure if he has an ideal woman it's her."

Usagi nodded slowly, taking this in, "So what you're saying is... I need to go to Africa and kill this woman, my rival, and then Motoki will notice me?"

Mamoru opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of that idea but, eyeing the drink in her hand, he changed his mind. "Let me explain this slowly and in small words so you can understand," Mamoru said. "You want to be Motoki's 'type.' Reika _is_ Motoki's 'type.' Therefore, to be Motoki's 'type' you have to be like Reika. Get it?"

Usagi shrugged, nonchalantly sipping the last grape soda, "I guess that could work too. So what's she like?"

Mamoru considered the question a moment before replying, "Reika was very smart, obviously, and very sophisticated. She was also really worried about her appearance and tried to dress ultra-fashionably."

"So," Usagi said, ticking items off on her fingers as she listed them, "Smart, sophisticated, beautiful and fashionable. I don't get it, it sounds like I'm his perfect woman already! Mamoru? What's so funny, Mamoru?!"

Mamoru ended up having to hurl himself between the carpet and Usagi's grape soda after all.

xXx

"So how do I get to be smart, fashionable, beautiful and sophisticated?" Usagi called loudly enough for Mamoru to hear her from the bathroom where he was changing.

The aforementioned man emerged wearing a simple, black t-shirt with the word, 'Fuego!' across the front, and running a towel through his hair. "Well the only way to get smart is to study," he replied. "You're free to borrow any of my books if you want." He gestured towards his bookshelf. Usagi noticed with a sinking feeling that she could not even pronounce the titles of the majority of his volumes.

"Uh... maybe we'll work on that one later," she said.

Mamoru shrugged, "And if you want to be fashionable you're going to have to get some magazines or something, because I know nothing about fashion."

"Obviously," Usagi said with a grin.

Mamoru frowned, "I meant _women's_ fashion, Odango."

Usagi batted her eyelashes and attempted to look cute and innocent, "Of course, Baka. So did I." Mamoru did not seem to be buying it so she attempted to change the subject. "What about beautiful?"

Mamoru ran a hand through his thick, black hair and said in an offhand way, "You don't have to worry about that one, it's sophisticated that's going to get you."

Usagi paused for a moment, considering what he had just said, then blushed, "You think I'm beautiful, Mamoru?"

The young man seemed to have realized what he had said only after she asked him. He tried to pretend that he had developed a sudden and intense interest in the corner of his ceiling but her intense gaze told him he would have to say something. Mamoru coughed and, without meeting her eyes, said, "Of course you're beautiful, Odango. I mean, every guy who sees you falls head over heels in love with you!"

Usagi pouted, "All but one."

Turning an interesting shade of pink Mamoru grunted, "Well I don't count, I mean-"

He cut off; noticing the look Usagi was giving him. Slowly she said, "I meant Motoki."

Mamoru blinked rapidly and at that moment both were overcome with furious blushes and an inexplicable need to studying their toes. Eventually Usagi asked, in a rather small voice, "So how can I be sophisticated?"

Gratefully, Mamoru turned his mind to the problem. "Well..." he said, "You have to be a mature, for one thing. For example, what would you do if I said, 'Oy, Odango-Atama, fail any tests today?'"

Usagi leapt to her feet and shrieked, "You jerk! Not _everyone_ spends their whole lives studying! And don't call me that!" She was just about to stick her tongue out at him when he calmly stood and walked over to her. Gently he pressed his finger to her nose. Her eyes crossed for a moment and then she immediately quieted and looked up at him, shock and curiosity plain on her face.

"Wrong answer," he said softly into the silence that floated between them, "A sophisticated woman never looses her temper."

Their eyes locked for a long moment, his finger still upon her nose. Mamoru could not help but think how true his statement about her beauty was, looking down at her like this. Just as he began to wonder if her eyes could possibly be any bluer, her face turned red and she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" she shouted and then, just for good measure, she kicked him in the shin.

As Mamoru hopped on one leg he said, "We've got a long way to go..."

xXx

Usagi was surprisingly good at balancing books on her head and walking the length of Mamoru's apartment. In truth he had no idea what good this particular exercise was supposed to do but, according to the movies at least, it seemed the thing to do and Usagi seemed satisfied that it would help her rise to sophistication. As she walked back and forth across the room, eventually getting confident and adding little pirouettes and flourishes, he searched his bookshelf for something more appropriate to sophisticate a woman.

His bookshelf had never failed him before. He had texts on just about any subject imaginable from thermodynamics to the care and breeding of hedgehogs. Unfortunately, this current subject rather stumped him. In fact, he was not even certain he could articulate what it was that made a person sophisticated. With a mental shrug, he decided that he would be best starting at the beginning and reached for a dictionary.

so-phis-ti-ca-tion, n

1. knowledgeableness and refinement: a combination of worldly wisdom, self-confidence, and refinement in a person

2. technical advancedness: technical advancedness and complexity

Mamoru smirked; she was female so at least she had the complexity aspect down. She also had a good share of self-confidence and worldly wisdom was just something you could not teach. Therefore, that left refinement. With a sigh, he turned to the R section.

re-fine-ment, n

1. elegance: elegance, politeness, and good taste

2. improvement: an addition or alteration that improves something by making it more sophisticated or effective

3. subtle, precise point: a subtle or precise distinction in language or point in an argument

Focusing on the first definition Mamoru felt he had his solution as to _what_ she needed to learn, but not necessarily _how_ to go about drilling it into her head. Glancing up he found Usagi tangoing with an imaginary partner, books balanced perfectly on her head. "Odango," he called to her, "How is it you have such perfect balance and yet you klutz out a thousand times a day?"

Surprised by his voice Usagi missed a step, tripped over a tiny bump in the carpet, knocked into the dining table, and flew head first into a closet.

Righting a chair she had tipped over and collecting the books, which had flown in every direction, Mamoru chuckled to himself. Had he not seen her weather far more death defying falls he might have worried for the petite girl. As it was, he finished his tidying and moseyed over to where her legs were sticking inelegantly out of the closet. Tapping her toe with his own he drawled, "You ok in there, Odango?"

A slight shifting of her legs told him that she was sitting up. After a moment's pause, her voice came from within. "Just how many of these jackets do you _have_, Mamoru-Baka?"

xXx

Usagi groaned. "Why do I have to listen to this junk? It's boring!"

Mamoru peeked open one eye. The two of them were sitting opposite each other on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed. Usagi was squirming, her eyes pressed as tightly closed as they could go. "This _junk_," Mamoru informed her, "Is Autumn from the Four Seasons by Vivaldi and it is a masterpiece. Now calm down, relax and let the music sweep you away."

"But what is the point?"

"Sophisticated ladies are supposed to have good taste so you need to learn to appreciate classical music, of course."

Usagi snorted doubtfully but seemed to at least try to do as he asked.

"Oh, and Odango-Atama?"

"Yeah?"

"Sophisticated ladies do not whine."

"I was _not_ whining you stuck-up, conceited jerk!" she yelled, her eyes flying open.

The epitome of serenity, Mamoru sat with his back straight, his eyes calmly closed and his face slightly uplifted in reverence of the music drifting around them. A tiny smile played on his lips as he said, "Odango? Mind your temper."

Visibly seething, Usagi closed her eyes and tried to listen to the music past the blood pounding in her ears.

xXx

"Repeat after me, 'The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.'"

Usagi crossed her arms, "Ok, now this is just getting ridiculous."

xXx

Usagi and Mamoru sat across from each other at Mamoru's dining table. Usagi sat tall and prim on the edge of her seat, her back straight and her head held high. Mamoru poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. She inclined her head regally in acceptance of the warm drink. Mamoru sat back in his chair and watched, impressed despite himself, as she took a slow, indulgent sip of the tea and murmured appreciatively. She had yet to reach for the tray of cookies on the table between them.

"So, Odango-Atama," Mamoru said, "Did you send anyone to the hospital barreling down the street this morning when you were late for school?"

Usagi smiled indulgently and set her tea back on the table with a little click. "Oh Mamoru," she said loftily, "Don't you know that it's not polite to poke fun at people? And besides, how could a tiny thing like me ever hurt anyone?" She raised her hand to her mouth and tittered. Mamoru's eyebrow shot up- tittered?

"Did your teacher keep you after school, Odango, because you forgot your homework again, or has she given up on you entirely by now?"

Usagi trailed a lazy finger around the rim of her teacup. "Silly Mamoru," she said, "A lady always completes her responsibilities." She tilted her head and regarded him with wide eyes, "Don't you think you should consider that lesson?"

Mamoru felt a vein in his forehead throb and so he pulled out the big guns, "Odango? Is it true you spilt _another_ soda on poor Motoki today? He's running out of aprons, you know."

Usagi tittered behind her hand again and then ever so calmly and delicately lifted her teacup- making sure that her pinkie was out- and threw it directly at Mamoru's head. From his new vantage point on the floor, Mamoru watched Usagi reach over and grab four cookies to shove in her mouth all at the same time and then neatly pat at the corners of her lips with a napkin. Mamoru sighed, "We've _still_ got a long way to go..."

xXx


	3. Chapter 3 Practice

**My Fair Bunny**

Danika Lareyna

Part Three - Practice

"A what?!" Usagi shrieked.

_We're making progress_, Mamoru thought to himself. A week ago she would have shrieked _and_ beat him about the head. "A date," he replied calmly, "For practice. You've been over here every afternoon for a week. Now you need some real-world experience." Mamoru had to admit that he was impressed. Certainly her progress had been minimal at best but prior to this experience he would not have believed her capable of sticking with anything for more than a couple of hours. She was obviously intent on winning Motoki for herself, he decided with a grunt.

Usagi conceded the logic but with a pout asked, "Does it have to be with you?"

"No," he growled, "It could be with your friend, Umino. I'm sure he would be happy to take you out."

"Where are you and I going?" she promptly asked

xXx

Mamoru would have preferred to pick his 'date' up at her home, as only seemed right, but valued his life too much to risk a possible second encounter with Usagi's father. Instead he picked her up on a street corner two blocks away because something deep within him (testosterone probably) refused to allow _her_ to come to _him_. It just did not seem gentlemanly.

When he pulled up in his shiny, red, slightly phallic, make the women swoon car he was pleasantly surprised to find her waiting in an elegant, silky, slightly revealing, make the men drool dress. Unfortunately her demeanor did not match her attire. Her arms were crossed, handbag swinging, a glower on her face. She crawled in and slammed the car door, making him wince, before turning to Mamoru and demanding, "_Now_ will you tell me where we are going?"

In lieu of a response, Mamoru slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad and a silver pen. As he wrote he spoke aloud, "Waited impatiently, minus five points. Unladylike greeting, minus three points. Slammed my precious car door, minus three points. Rude demeanor, minus five points..."

"You're _grading_ me?" she screeched and then clapped her hands over her mouth. She looked at him with wide eyes over her hands before lowering them and saying quietly, "I apologize for raising my voice, but could you please explain the... uh... necessity of that?"

It amused Mamoru to no end when she attempted to come up with suitably long and intelligent sounding words. He replied, writing on his pad, "Graceful apology, plus three points. And how else will you know how you are doing, Odango?"

Usagi's forehead twitched, Mamoru tried to think of a way to deduct points for that but regretfully decided that he could not. "Considering that we are supposed to be on a date, perhaps you could... refrain from using that... repugnant nickname."

Mamoru gave her his best puppy dog eyes, learned from Usagi herself, and batted his eyelashes. "Of course, Usa_ko_."

Usagi gritted her teeth and shoved down the little voice in her head which thought Mamoru had very nice eyelashes. "Thank you so much, Mamo_chan_. And if you could... illuminate me as to our... destination?"

She really did have a good vocabulary when she tried. Mamoru gave full credit to her time spent with Mizuno Ami. Running a hand through his hair he said, "I thought that I would let you decide, considering that you are such a sophisticated lady."

Usagi's eyes lit up and she opened her mouth eagerly but hesitated when she noticed that Mamoru had his pen poised to grade her response. _Sophisticated..._ she thought. _Ok, what is the most boring date I could possibly go on?_ "Um... Art museum?" she suggested, tentatively.

Mamoru smiled, "Plus ten points." Usagi restrained her elated outburst, barely. "But first," Mamoru continued, "I will take you to my favorite restaurant."

"I suppose it's too much to hope that they serve french-fries," Usagi muttered. With a tiny gasp she put her hand to her mouth and tittered, hoping he would take her comment for a joke. Mamoru did not but, charmed by the fact that her blush matched the rose shade of her gown, decided to be lenient.

xXx

Usagi swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to Mamoru to hiss, "This place looks _expensive_!"

Mamoru just smirked and put his sunglasses in his pocket. Usagi had managed to convince him to get some new, less bulky, shades. She was still working on the jacket but at least he had doffed it for suave, casual suit today. Offering his arm to her he said, "Don't worry about it, Oda... Usako. I like to treat myself once in a while." Hesitantly she took his arm and allowed herself to be led in, privately doubting that, even with all of her sophistication training, she was prepared for this.

xXx

Usagi stared at her menu in consternation. "Mamor- Mamochan," she whispered, "I think they gave me the wrong menu. I can't read this."

Mamoru reached over and plucked the offending item from her hand, turned it over, and handed it back to her. "First, you have to read it right side up," he said, "And second, it is in French."

Her eyes widened, "Oh no," she told him, "I've seen this movie before. No matter what I order it will be disgusting and inedible and you will laugh at me and mark me off on your little grade sheet. Instead why don't _you_ order for me."

Mamoru smiled, "That's a very good idea. Remind me to give you an extra five points."

Usagi's eyebrows drew down, "And you'd better order me something good, Mamo_chan_."

Mamoru rolled his eyes, "Make it two points."

xXx

Usagi seemed relieved when the waiter brought her chicken fettucini alfredo but, when she saw the steak the placed in front of Mamoru, insisted they trade. Chuckling to himself, Mamoru acquiesced. At least for the first few mouthfuls she restrained herself and took small, delicate bites, but as she got into her meal and was distracted by their conversation and the atmosphere of the restaurant, she began to eat more as Mamoru would expect her to. He just wondered how she could fit a full third of the large portion in her mouth at one time and still be able to chat animatedly.

"This place is _so_ fancy!" she exclaimed. "It's like being in a palace or something, except I guess a palace would probably be nicer. Not that I have ever been to a palace! But wouldn't that be fun? Like- to dance in a giant ballroom like Beauty and the Beast or something. Wouldn't that be romantic, Mamochan?"

Mamoru just nodded and let her ramble on. With a guilty start he realized that he _should_ chastise her for letting her mouth run on in such an unsophisticated manner but he was loathe to ruin her first such experience. And besides, he discovered that he found her chatter amusing.

xXx

"Mmm, that was so good-er... I mean, that was quite delicious, Mamochan. Thank you ever so much for inviting me."

Mamoru snorted. "Usag-ko," he said, "You're making a lot of progress but do me a favor and _never_ say 'ever so much' again."

Usagi blinked up at him blankly for a moment and then giggled. "Whatever you say, _darling_ Mamochan."

They were meandering through a small, local art gallery. Usagi was bored out of her mind, Mamoru could tell, but doing a passable job pretending to be fascinated by the multiple abstract art pieces which surrounded them. "Oh my!" she murmured, indicating the massive Pollock-inspired piece which dominated the back wall of the gallery. "Look at the... uh... interplay of colors. The dominating warms and... subtle... underplayed cools. You can really sense the... um... evocative emotions of the artist, can't you, Mamochan?"

Mamoru kept his face turned towards the artwork but looked at her at her out of the corner of his eye and raised a brow questioningly.

Usagi struggled for a moment, looking at the piece through slit eyes and turning her head this way and that. "Ok," she said, "I confess. I don't get it. It looks like whoever made this just dumped paint on the canvas randomly and then rolled around in it. My cat could do that. Heck, even my little brother could!"

With a chortle Mamoru laid a gentle hand on the small of Usagi's back and led her out of the gallery. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, Usako. I don't get it either."

xXx

Mamoru had decided to walk Usagi home. It was a warm night and their stroll would take them through a pretty park. As they drew near, though, he discovered that they would not be enjoying the orchids. Usagi gasped in delight, "A carnival! They're having a carnival, Mamochan!"

Noting how she had taken to using the nickname, which had originally been a taunt, naturally, Mamoru replied, "I don't know, Usako. Carnivals are not very sophisticated."

Usagi's face fell. She looked from the glowing lights of the carnival to Mamoru and back. Slowly she said, "Well... The official date is over, so you're not grading me now... right?"

Mamoru grinned at her. Usagi felt her breath catch at the expression. Sure, he had grinned at her before but always it was condescendingly or because he was laughing at her. Now he grinned at her with the delighted expression of a child. Usagi had always considered Mamoru to have a sort of cold and aloof beauty but when he smiled at her like that she understood why women's hearts melted for him.

"Come on," he said, "It looks like they have a Ferris Wheel."

xXx

Usagi had a ball and, much to his surprise, so did Mamoru. Abandoning all pretenses to dignity they played games (Mamoru won a stuffed piggy for Usagi and, in turn, she won him a giant, inflated sword), ate until they were sick, and rode all the rides- twice.

xXx

Mamoru crawled into the pink, plastic playhouse and plopped down on the surprisingly comfy penguin. They had felt this a much better place to say their goodbyes; even if this was only a practice date, it was better not to risk her father's substantial wrath. Giggling, Usagi found the perfect place for her new piggy amongst the piles of stuffed animals which already occupied the tiny abode. Her face was flushed from a nights laughter, her hair in minor disarray, and her high heels long since abandoned for the freedom of bare feet. Mamoru thought he had never seen her look lovelier.

Without warning Usagi launched herself at him and wrapped him in one of her patented bear-hugs. "Thank you, Mamochan!" she gushed, "Tonight was so much fun- even the art stuff."

Mamoru grinned down at her, "You're right. It was fun. Thank _you_, Usako."

Usagi was so enjoying the sight of him grinning at her that it took her a moment to remember the purpose of this date in the first place. Suddenly and inexplicably less enthusiastic than she felt she should be, she sat back and regarded him, "So, do you think I'm ready?"

"Ready?"

Usagi forced a smile and hit him amicably in the shoulder, "Yes, ready. Do you think I'm Motoki's ideal woman yet?"

Mamoru felt his heart sink a little. Of course that was what she meant. That was the goal of this whole thing, after all. Wordlessly Mamoru nodded.

Usagi squealed and hugged him again. "Yes! Look out Motoki, here comes your perfect girl! Thanks again, Mamochan. Goodnight!" In a swirl of blond hair and the lingering smell of caramel apples she was gone. Just before she entered her house, she glanced back at the little playhouse wistfully. Berating herself and reminding herself that Motoki was her soul-mate, Usagi entered the house and went to bed.

Mamoru sat alone in the playhouse for a long time before he managed to drag himself all the way back to the art museum where his car waited and get home.

xXx


	4. Chapter 4 Never

**My Fair Bunny**

Danika Lareyna

Part Four - Never

Mamoru checked his watch. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, detentions or the like, Usagi would be arriving in less than ten minutes. The young man had stationed himself in a booth near the back window. After all of her hard work, the least he could do was give her space to implement her plan. Motoki had stopped by his booth a number of times, exclaiming over how long it had been since Mamoru had been by and trying to make conversation. Mamoru had tried but could barely meet his friends eyes. Finally Motoki had left him to nurse his coffee in peace.

Every time the entrance bell chimed, Mamoru's head whipped around but time passed and Usagi did not arrive. As the minutes dragged on, Mamoru felt himself growing tense. His hands clenched tightly around his mug, trying to draw warmth up into his strangely cold body. He glanced at his watch, her class had been out nearly a half hour. He told himself that he should leave, that he had waited long enough, and yet he did not move.

The bell tinkled. Mamoru turned to look, his persistence- it certainly could not be called patience- was rewarded. Usagi swept in with a little flourish. Suddenly it was clear to him why she had been so late. The blond teenager must have gone home first to change out of her childish school uniform. Now she wore an outfit in pink and black that could have been taken directly from one of her flashy fashion magazines. Mamoru could not help but think she looked out of place amongst the games and decorations of the arcade. Mamoru could not help but think she looked stunning.

Motoki noticed it too. "Usagi!" he exclaimed, "Wow- look at you. Is that a new dress?"

_New dress, new shoes, new jewelry... _Mamoru thought to himself. Usagi floated over to the counter and took a dainty seat. She crossed her legs and leaned towards him, "Why yes," she replied with a coy smile, "Thank you for noticing."

Motoki smiled, "What can I get you? Banana split? Brownie sundae?"

Usagi put a finger to her chin, making a big show of considering her options. "Actually, I'll just have a glass of water- with lemon."

_Water with lemon?_ Mamoru thought with a frown, _Come on, Usako, anyone can see you're dying for some chocolate right now. _

"You're the boss," Motoki said, fetching her drink.

Usagi took a tiny sip and then watched him over the rim of her cup. Smiling sweetly, she said, "Motoki? Have you seen the modern art exhibit at the gallery down the street? It's really quite fascinating, you know. The colors were gorgeous and very evocative. I found the emotion of the pieces so moving."

Mamoru rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Motoki said, "I didn't know you liked art, Usagi. Do you visit art galleries often?"

Usagi waved her hand airily and tittered. Mamoru shuddered. "Oh, you know," she replied. "I stop by from time to time, just to see what's new and trendy."

"Hey!" Motoki exclaimed, "Wasn't there some sort of carnival this week, right down by that gallery? You love those things, right? Did you go?"

Usagi blushed but covered it well. She took a long sip of her water- _with lemon_, Mamoru thought with a snort- and said, "Ah well, I wouldn't have noticed. I outgrew that sort of childish thing ages ago. I would just feel silly..."

Mamoru did not hear the rest. He had gotten to his feet and left, unnoticed by either Motoki or Usagi.

xXx

Mamoru glared furiously at the children, families and couples enjoying themselves at the little carnival. Cheerful music blared, cut intermittently by the piercing shrieks of those on the wild rides. The heavenly smells, sweet and savory, of a multitude of special treats drifted on the wind. Bells rang and lights flashed as people won coveted prizes at the booths. The colors, the noises and the atmosphere all laughed at him. _She was right. It _is_ a childish and silly thing._

Mamoru turned away from it, ready to leave. He did not know where he would go but he felt a deep urge to just walk away from it all. He did not get the chance. Behind him, chin up and eyes bright with unshed tears, stood Tsukino Usagi.

Puzzled, he opened his mouth to ask her why she was not back at the Crown Game Center, back with Motoki. Before he had a chance, her hand whipped up to point at him accusingly. The tip of her finger, trembling with rage, hovered centimeters from the tip of his nose. "You said you would fix it." Her voice was soft but as she continued it grew louder until she was nearly shouting. "You said you would teach me to be his ideal woman. You _said_ I was ready."

Mamoru watched her thunder at him. He noted the way her hair flared out around her, like a golden tail, lashing in ire. He studied the blue fire that burned bright behind her eyes. He was especially intrigued by the way her face started out pale white and slowly grew a deep, crimson. So caught up was he in the peculiar girl's appearance that it took a moment for his ears to catch up.

"He turned you down." It was not a question.

Furiously, she nodded. With a little sniffle she said, "He told me he was impressed with the new me. Complimented me on how mature and sophisticated I had become in such a short time. He told me it reminded him of Reika. _Oh_ he told me _all_ about Reika. He told me how much he loved her and how, even though they were supposed to be broken up, he would always wait for her."

"I told you she was his ideal woman."

"But I was acting just like her and he still didn't..."

"Of course he didn't. It was a good act Usak- Usagi, but that's all it was. An act. You didn't really change."

Usagi's eyes widened in shock, all color drained from her face. She had expected him to tell her that she needed to practice more, that she was not trying hard enough. Finally she was able to stammer, "Wh-what?"

Mamoru's eyes were masked; unreadable. Slowly, with very precise and careful articulation, Mamoru said, "No matter how much you flirt with him, he will never love you."

They were locked in each other's eyes for an indeterminate amount of time. He saw overwhelming pain in hers, she saw unrelenting truth in his. Blue of the ocean depths warred with blue sparkling fire. At length, like ripping away a piece of her soul, Usagi turned away.

Tsukino Usagi reared back and slapped Chiba Mamoru with all of the strength in her small frame. Mamoru accepted her blow without a flinch.

Her eyes returned to his, challenging.

"He will _never_ love you," he repeated.

The energy drained from her. Defeated, Usagi turned to leave. She did not know where she would go but she felt a deep urge to just walk away from it all. She did not get the chance. A gentle but rock hard grip had caught her wrist. Listlessly she turned back, uncaring what he might have to say to her. She did not expect the sight which met her gaze. Mamoru was tense, his shoulders hunched and his head bent low so that his dark hair shielded his eyes.

"He will never love you, Usako. But I will."

xXx

Usagi and Mamoru were curled together in the tiny, pink playhouse behind her home. Somehow the danger of being caught by her overprotective father or her knowing mother did not seem so important anymore. In fact it made it more... interesting. Mamoru was relaxed atop and against a mountain of plush toys. Usagi was relaxed against Mamoru. "You promise?" she asked, for the umpteenth time.

"Promise," he said, wrapping his arms around her petite figure.

"And I don't have to be all sophisticated?" she asked, draping the fingers of one hand around his neck.

"Nope," he said, pulling her close.

"I just have to be myself?" she asked, brushing a strand of silky black hair from his eyes.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, cradling her close to his body.

She tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. Their noses brushed against each other, their breath mingled. "And that's the way you like me?"

Mamoru shook his head minutely, "No."

"No?"

Ever so softly he kissed her, just the lightest brush of the lips. She tasted so sweet; she smelled like honey. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes barely open; warmth radiated from her. He teased her lips with another gentle kiss.

"No, Usako. That's the way I love you."

xXx

The End

xXx


End file.
